Oh dancing lords in all your glory
Your red fire fills souls with light
So brilliant, so intriguing
We fight to enter your empty heart
Build a home inside your power
Take us, like you would a cur
What use is this world if one exists above and one below?
Disbelief is fatiguing and I am tired too
Maybe your blameless heat can cure me
Maybe your admonishment can beat my soul out of me
Bake us, cook us in oil
What use is my soul if this isn’t where it’s supposed to be?
You’ll tell me next I should never have thought any thought at all
Because thoughts make me weary and my love drains
I’m tired, I may wither but thoughts stay
Until the very last breath I breathe in and out
Charge into us, break us up
What use are my breaths if all they do is pump blood through me
Letting me live- even fruit-flies live! Maybe better too-
They aren’t bogged down with history
With tasks to complete and ruthless rules to follow
Tear us from limb to limb and put us back tomorrow again- as you want to
What use are these rules if you’re not judging me every single day or every single year?
I might as well raise my hand and strike a life out of a living body the way you do
But I would never- maybe because I am not blessed like you
Maybe because I’m not pious like you.
PS: Perhaps my most controversial poem till date. I mean for it to be heavily sarcastic. Not sure how it comes across though!